


Five Times Hera Kissed Kanan

by MirrorandImage



Series: Ghost Drabbles [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: 5 times +1, Brief Citrus, F/M, kanera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorandImage/pseuds/MirrorandImage
Summary: and one time Kanan kissed Hera. Does contain brief citrusy content.





	Five Times Hera Kissed Kanan

1.

The first time Hera kissed Kanan, the latter does not remember, and the former will forever keep it that way.

The story behind the kiss started several months before the incident happened, when Kanan had tried to help Hera relax and instead did something the opposite of relaxing – touching her inappropriately. Hera reacted accordingly, throwing him out of the cockpit and trying to figure out what to do and how to handle what had just happened. It was, Hera always reflected, the first time they really _talked_ , about things beyond whatever job they had or surface comments on space lanes or whining about Chopper. Hera, during that incident, received some very sparse but hauntingly sharp imagery of what his early teen years were like – Kanan had to use three bottles worth of liquid courage to be that honest with her, and by the end Hera felt like they had made progress.

Months later was the ten-year anniversary of Empire Day. They had just finished the op and were laying low until the heat settled and they could get off world. The theme of the year was the Jedi: and every corner of the HoloNet in the week leading up to the celebration had some kind of video or opinion peace or documentary of the Jedi betrayal, detailed analysis that the Force was a hoax, a sleight of hand that had been used for centuries to consolidate power, lurid "found" footage and details of the Jedi as they fell or were captured and executed, edited cuts of the trials before the Emperor decreed that the judicial procedure was unnecessary, everything to hurt Kanan in the worst possible way. The Twi'lek pilot had watched him watch the footage, his face growing darker and darker, until the night of the celebration.

She had expected to find him drunk, true, but drunk in a bar, passed out from a brawl, maybe staggering into the _Ghost_ in the wee hours of the morning. Instead, she found him in his cabin, curled around himself and moaning, rocking back and forth on his bunk. The floor was littered with bottles, and Hera could only sigh and pick her way through the litter, nose crinkling at the smell and finding an edge of the bunk to sit on. She touched his knee and Kanan looked up. All of his guards were down, there was no barrier between him and the world, and it was only much, much later that Hera would marvel that he felt safe enough to do that in front of her.

"Hera," he slurred. "It just hurts so much..."

There wasn't a tear on his face, his eyes had dried out long ago, but the pain was still there, raw and unhealed and bleeding right there in front of her, and her compassion – normally so tightly held to her chest – burst forth and the only thing she could think to take the pain away was to kiss him.

And, space bless him, sloshed out of his mind, he somehow had enough presence to pull back, stare into her eyes and shake his head. "Not like this," he said, voice as blurry as his head, and whatever damage he had done with his inappropriate touch was erased utterly in that one moment of clarity. She held him through the night, let him sleep it off, and didn't say a word when he finally woke and asked what he'd missed. It was the first time she had ever showed sympathy for him after a drinking binge, and though Kanan in turn never brought it up, he was appreciably more relaxed.

He never drank again after that.

* * *

2.

The second kiss was under a thrown-together role play. Hera had an assignment from Fulcrum to collect a dissident, a whistleblower, who was in trouble, and the dissident turned out to be one of Kanan's old lovers. It was a tense walk back to the _Phantom_ , and the two women had to pose as partners for the lascivious spacer who was counting his lucky stars. Kanan played his part well, and Hera was able to appreciate that he was a good kisser, but it was clear to her that his playboy days were long passed, and this made him uncomfortable.

The whistleblower had her own share of problems, she alternated between shaking like a bad motivator and reliving her past with Kanan to distract herself from her barely-suppressed fear. Hera left Kanan to face his problem and he came out better for it. That kiss was almost all but forgotten.

* * *

3.

The third time Hera kissed Kanan had decidedly different circumstances.

They were under heavy fire, for one, and both of them thought they were about to die for another.

One of Fulcrum's ops had gone the worst version of south one could think of: it was a trap, the Imperial Stormtroopers were all firing at them, two TIE fighters were circling overhead for air support, and the two of them had only a DL-18 and a Blurrg-1120.

"At least we have cloaks," Kanan had quipped. "They won't get our faces until after they've processed us."

They were running helter-skelter, passed the base's walls and into the night, trying to dodge away from the search lights of the TIE fighters, the blaster fire of the stormtroopers, the roots and rocks of the planet, and each other as they ran into each other's path trying to stay alive. Hera was in no mood for Kanan so casually bantering while their deaths were looking increasingly imminent. Comms were jammed and who knew if Chopper would notice? (Yes, she knew he was moody and cantankerous; yes, she knew he was self-serving; _yes,_ she knew he was _annoying_ ; but he was _her droid_ , and she loved him as much as she loved... but that part hadn't happened yet). The pair reached a giant crevasse, the cut into the planet yawning out into darkness.

"Perfect place to say our goodbyes," Kanan muttered, turning to face the approaching troopers and reaching for something on his belt. "Not the best choice for a Twenty-Two Pickup, but I guess it works."

Hera was too busy looking around, still trying to work out a solution, her partner's words not really sinking in until their codeword for his lightsaber wormed into her head. She looked at him in shock and then swatted him on his head. "I have a better idea," she said, grabbing his shell of an ear and spinning him around. "Do you see that?" She jabbed her finger into the crevasse, pointing to a thin outcropping below, perhaps forty feet – not an easy landing but certainly better than dying by blaster fire.

Kanan gulped, eyes looking almost blue as the searchlight flew over them. He nodded.

Hera, with no other options, kissed him. "For luck," she said.

The grin that split his face was... something happened deep in Hera's chest but then she heard herself shriek and then scream because they were falling falling _fallingfallingfall..._! And then there was impact that pushed all air out of her lungs and she was scrambling for purchase over Kanan's shoulders. The ledge she had pointed was not the one they had landed on – she had seen the two of them pass it in their descent – instead landing on a ledge _seventy_ feet down and on the other side of the crevasse. How had they even _made_ that distance let alone _survive_? The ledge had the added bonus of extending out of another ledge, placing them in total shade and both shimmied as deep into the darkness as they could, Kanan eventually on top and pressed against her back as her chest scraped against the pebbly terrain. Only then did Hera really realize that they had made it, and the adrenaline left her feeling giddy and she had to cover her mouth to swallow the laughter, her body shaking with relief even though they weren't in the clear yet.

Three times the TIE fighters flashed their floodlights over their location, but the other ledge over them was so low and their hiding space so narrow that the pair couldn't be seen. The ships eventually moved lower and lower into the crevasse – dangerous flying that Hera (before everything had blown up in their face) might have enjoyed attempting. Eventually, there was quiet, and Hera became aware of how tightly pressed the two of them were, wedged together. She could feel Kanan's chest expand and contract, felt his breath along the sensitive membrane of her lekku and felt his chin hair with acute sensitivity. Her cheeks flushed and she tried to hold still. Other parts of his anatomy pressed against her, and for the first time in her life she couldn't control the responses of her body.

Dawn broke, eventually, and Kanan, silent up until then, touched her shoulder in communication, wriggling and trying to crawl out enough to stick his head out and survey the landscape. "Sun's up," he said softly, his voice vibrating along her back. "We're in total shade, we can climb out, but I don't know where to."

Only then did her mind finally settle, snap out of the cacophony of her body and refocus on the job. She pulled out her comm.

"Jamming's stopped," she whispered, "They must think we're dead."

Kanan turned back, his face in silhouette, but his grin was still obvious. "I kind of thought we were, too, for a second," he said. He edged further out to the ledge and, after hours of keeping still, he arched his back and rolled his shoulders, Hera unable to turn away, seeing Kanan – perhaps for the first time – as a male. He sat, one leg dangling over the edge into oblivion, looking up the crevasse to the sky. Sunlight hit his face, skin such a warm color, and when he turned his eyes were forest green. "Hey," he said, "You still alive?"

Hera nodded, and started pulling herself out, too. She ached to her bones, and once she had freedom of movement she did the same thing, arched her back and her shoulders and her arms and anything she could think of.

The moment passed, and Hera pointed out a path further down the crevasse. It took them two days to get far enough away to get picked up by Chopper and the _Ghost_ , and by then Hera decided that it was all in her head and that it wasn't worth wasting energy over worrying about it. They had almost died, adrenaline did impressive things to a being's body, and that included temporary insanity.

* * *

4.

She knew she had a problem, however, when she kissed him for the fourth time.

Hera was recovering from a bad case of the Blurrg Flu – a deadly disease on her home world that had been dormant in her for years before activating. Recovery was slow and Hera was never so frustrated with her own body. She was used to things as simple as getting up from her bunk and walking to the pilot chair, but even that exhausted her. The illness had sapped almost everything from her body, and now she had to recover all of that lost energy one humiliating inch at time. Kanan had to take her grumpy direction on maintaining the ship, listened to her curse and mutter and as he tried to explain what was wrong with the aiming protocols of the turret gun or the lag of the sub-light engines. He was passable as a mechanic, but Hera's standards were exacting and she was acutely aware of how demanding she was being.

In spite of all that, he took it without complaint – even a smile on his lips.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked finally. "I just ripped you apart because you crossed the wrong wires."

Kanan looked down from the turret, grease smeared along his cheek and that silly grin on his face. "Can't help it," he said brightly. "You're alive and that makes me happy."

The sentiment was uttered with complete sincerity, honest and with no subtext, no sexuality, just unhidden gratitude, and Hera felt her face heat again.

It wasn't that she didn't understand he had a crush on her. It was the sole reason he boarded her ship – just to be around her, and she knew that from the get go. He had enough self-control to not act on impulse or force his way, and over the years she just assumed he got over it. That moment, however, that simply delivered sentence, made her realize that he had never gotten over the crush – had actually had the crush grow to something much deeper. Stronger. Scarier.

Hera understood she was attractive, learned early on how to use that to her advantage. Libido, however, was very different from true emotion, and _that_ scared her on more than a few levels. She looked up at him as he turned back to the wires, sitting on a stool at the ladder, and debated on talking to him, trying to get him to understand that she had no room for that kind of attachment. Hera only had one commitment, and that was to building a rebellion, she didn't have time for something... something frivolous. Except this wasn't frivolous, not for Kanan, and her body was too weak to process everything that was suddenly hammering through her mind.

Kanan finished his work and came down the ladder, helping her up and ready to walk her to their next stop.

Hera stood, a little fuzzy, looked up at his human features, and kissed him.

She knew her mistake as soon as she made it, was horrified that it had even happened and pulled back immediately. Kanan, for his part, held himself unnaturally still, eyes wide in surprise before blinking twice. "Uh," he said with all the intelligence in the world.

"... I'm happy too," she said, struggling to explain this away. "Happy that you've been helping me through this and taking care of me. Not a lot of people can handle me."

It was a weak, flimsy excuse, the first thing that came to mind and the only way she could rationalize what had just happened.

But Kanan offered a lazy half-grin, shrugging his shoulders, relaxing his posture. There was no smugness or sense of victory, just a relaxed posture and a small nod.

Hera was beside herself for the rest of her recovery. She tried to pull away, be more independent, but she was too weak to do so, and she learned how much she had come to depend on Kanan over the last four years. He had managed to insert himself into every facet of her life, she could no longer imagine living without him, and Hera was utterly terrified that this had all happened and she hadn't even noticed it. All she could see was Kanan's male form, the shape and size of his hands as it ran over the copilot station, the sway of his walk, the lines of his face. She was as Kanan was when this had all started: always looking. Hera couldn't allow herself this distraction, her heart didn't have room for this and the rebellion, and for months and months after that kiss she worked herself into tighter and tighter knots.

She tried to yell at him, to call him out on what he'd done but he hadn't really _done_ anything. Kanan in turn was abjectly confused, uncertain what had happened, what had _changed_ , and Hera couldn't find the words to explain, "Well, Kanan, I recently just realized you were a _male_ and that I'm entertaining the idea of having you as a _partner_ as well as a partner." The more she tried to dance around the topic the more Kanan was confused, and Chopper was more than a little gleeful that some strife had at last fallen between the two, and the maniacal little bucket of bolts cackled every time they started fighting. That of course lead to the pair yelling at _him_ , and his indignation emerged in several forms of revenge through the ships programming. More than once the two of them found the air temperature in their cabins the opposite of what they needed, several appliances in the galley conveniently broke, and there was the disaster where Kanan was very nearly jettisoned out the air lock.

Hera almost threw Kanan off her ship, wanted things to go back to normal when she thought his feelings were periphery at best and her feelings were nonexistent. She felt like a love-struck teenager and she _didn't have time for this_.

But, if there was one thing Cham Syndulla taught her, it was to face her problems head on, and when she finally reconciled herself to what was happening she made her move.

"Kanan," she said in the galley one day, "We need to talk."

"I noticed," the former Jedi said, offering her a seat. "You finally up to explaining what's been going on?"

Hera sat, finding her knuckles fascinating in lieu of looking Kanan in the eye. She'd never struggled so much with talking about her emotions – but then perhaps that was because she never _had_ to with Kanan. He never pressed her more than she was willing to go, and she realized, belatedly, that she knew more about him than he knew about her. Their relationship was not equal, was in fact one sided, and Hera had never considered that she would allow something like this to happen. Her head hurt even more with that realization...

"I realized something," she said, trying to be honest. As honest as Kanan always was. "I realized something about myself, and I didn't know what to do with it, and it scared me a little. I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have; I'm sorry Kanan."

The gunslinger leaned back, shrugging his shoulders and sipping his caf. "It's okay, I guess," he said. "It's not like I haven't had my own mood swings when things hit me. Used to be I'd just drink myself to oblivion; it took a while before I figured out how to handle things without any kind of liquid courage."

"I haven't been totally open," Hera said, trying to get it out quickly. "I didn't realize how little I was giving to this relationship – _professional_ relationship," she added quickly. What was _wrong_ with her? "I thought I was better about this, I surprised myself."

Kanan had a smirk on his face, and Hera had the sudden intense urge to wipe it off by any means necessary as she continued to fluster. "I'm not really good at this," she said at last, aghast that this was going so badly. "I'm not really good at talking about myself."

"And lo, the master learns from the apprentice," Kanan said, a wistful look in his eyes. "I was starting to wonder if it would ever happen."

Hera blinked. "Wait, what?" she asked. "Master? Apprentice?"

Kanan straightened in his chair, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward slightly. "It's a saying back where I come from," he said, as always careful about how he spoke of his Jedi past. "If a master and apprentice are a good match, the proof of that is when the master learns something from the apprentice. My master learned things from me – or at least she said she did – and great Masters like Master Kenobi often talked about things that his apprentice, Master Skywalker, taught him. You've been teaching me a lot these last few years, you were a good 'master.' I've wondered for a long time if I was a good apprentice. I guess I lived up to you."

And that was just so _touching_ Hera didn't know how to react, just stared at him, wide-eyed.

Then something inside her warmed, and she smiled.

"So what did you learn?" Kanan asked. "About yourself, through me?"

"That I've been taking advantage of you," she said, hand cupped in her cheek. "You've done a lot, put up with a lot, working with me, and I haven't put in as much as you have."

"No relationship is fifty-fifty, even working ones."

"But I want this one to be," Hera said firmly. "Or at least as close to it as I can," she appended, a thought occurring to her. She still couldn't tell him about Fulcrum, about the long-term plan, about the objectives and the protocols. That was for his safety, for everyone's safety. He was smart, probably had already figured out a lot, but said nothing in respect to her wishes. Again, he gave more than her.

"Okay," Kanan said. "How do I get equal billing?"

Hera was still working that part out. She understood her crush now, or at least how to handle it. She couldn't – wouldn't – say anything while she had all the power in this... this _thing_ that was between them. They were partners first, and Hera wasn't going to risk breaking what they had because her feelings were a mess. Kanan learned to handle his emotions about her, the least she could do was learn to do the same. It wasn't a perfect solution – probably wasn't even a healthy one – but it was a starting point and from there she could take her steps as she could. It was the pressure of emotions that had driven her into such a tizzy, she needed to find an outlet, a way to let off the steam of her crush, a way to—

She offered a wry grin, and a coy look. "Don't worry, dear," she said, testing the words on her lips, watching his face slack in flabbergasted shock, enjoying the feeling she had saying it. "We'll catch you up."

Kanan stared at her long after she got up and left, and it was silly but she felt like she had made progress. She didn't compromise her principles to the rebellion, but she let him know she was fond of him. The pressure of her emotions faded away, and _Yes_ , she thought, _I can live with this._

She was lying to herself, of course, but that realization came later. Much later.

* * *

5.

It was the fifth time she kissed him that she had to admit things to herself.

Kanan was injured, recovering, sleeping.

The crew was bigger, stronger. The _rebellion_ was bigger, stronger. So many people came to the rescue, more than Hera had ever thought possible. They had done amazing things, had grand adventures; she and Kanan were as close as close could be. He knew everything about her, now, protocols no longer kept pieces of herself separated. So many things had happened, they had all grown so much, changed so much, become so much.

And there was a price for all of it.

Hera looked down at Kanan, her hand on his, cursing and admiring him for his nobility and his curious ability to sacrifice everything for the greater good. That was the Jedi in him, and now she was beginning to understand what the cost of having a Jedi on her team really meant. She could still hear his calls to make her go, even calling her name instead of her callsign, ordering that he be left behind and the others saved.

His pain reflected on the others – Zeb, Sabine, Chopper, and most especially Ezra. They worried for his sake, and Hera dared not compare her worry to theirs, save that she knew more about him. Much like when they had first met, Kanan kept a lot of himself from the kids. Old habits, she supposed. She was fortunate to be past all of that. Hera, herself... she couldn't begin to count her pain as he laid there, chest rising up and down but entire parts of him soaked in hurt. How would they ever recover from this? How would they move beyond what had just happened?

… How close had she come to losing him forever?

How had he made it off the torture table, through the star destroyer, flying a TIE fighter, and still stay awake until Ezra had been treated and he debriefed? His collapse to his bunk had been inevitable, and the damage he displayed while he was still conscious was... Hera couldn't articulate how she felt, seeing what she had left him to. The electrocution burns, the needle marks, the bruises, the pallor of his skin and the bags under his eyes. So much had happened to him, he would be dead – should have been dead.

She could have lost him.

And he would never have known...

It wasn't until that moment, that moment when Ezra so blatantly defied her, went behind her back, and made his declaration. "Kanan's our friend!" The words were still new to the boy's lips, new to trusting others and having the right labels, but the subtext was clear enough: "Kanan's our family!" That's what he had meant, and family – especially for Ezra – was more important than anything. And it was in that moment that Hera had learned the awful truth: Kanan was more important to her than the rebellion.

Eyes opened, she wasn't going to turn away; she knew what to do: back up Ezra, get Kanan back, and make the Empire pay.

Now she watched him heal. Three weeks it took; three weeks of treatments, debriefings, nightmares. Hera was at his side constantly, watching him sleep, shooing people away or getting Ezra depending on the slightest glance or tightening of the eyes. He told her everything: from the torture to the Force to the fight with the Inquisitor. He opened up about it all, holding nothing back, and every time he finished he looked up at her, eyes ranging from blue to green, looking for... Hera didn't know what. All she could think about was how close she had come to losing him, and the regret she felt that one very important thing had gone unsaid for so long.

"Love" and "dear" wasn't enough any more. Touching his shoulder or rubbing his back when he was worried could no longer convey what she felt. What she had always felt, but never acknowledged. She needed her words to be stronger, her actions to be clearer.

After some dinner in the cockpit, Kanan was rubbing his face and pinching his nose, a sign of stress and tiredness.

"You want to turn in?" she asked.

"Sorry," he mumbled, fingers pulling his face down before he let go. "Body's still not back in balance."

"You're more recovered in three weeks than most people are in six."

"Better health plan," he said trying for a grin but not quite making it.

Hera took pity on him. "Chopper, I'll take an extra shift tomorrow, take over."

The C1 droid warbled low contempt, but volume indicated that it was perfunctory at best. Everyone watched Kanan carefully after his return, getting used to him all over again. Hera stood and motioned for Kanan to follow. "Come on," she said, "before you fall into the console."

"Aye-aye, Captain," Kanan said, stretching and standing.

She followed him into his bunk, thinking of getting him a cup of water or something, when he stiffened with his green sweater half off, a grunt escaping his lips before he could finish the maneuver.

"Here," Hera said. "Let me."

She tugged at his dark turtleneck underneath, sliding her hands under his belt to find the edges and lifting it up over his hips, getting his help to pull his head out and then off his arms. She glanced at the planes of his abdomen, the fur of his chin spreading out in odd places and disappearing under the hem of his pants. His wounds are fading, the bruising was more yellow than blue, stitches were no longer red; he was healing, but he wasn't better yet. She reached out and touched one of the electrocution burns, rubbing her finger around the circle, fascinated by the texture...

"... Hera...?"

She looked up, saw Kanan staring at her, face between confused and curious.

"... Do you have any regrets?" The words fell out of her mouth before she really registered them.

Kanan gave a lazy grin. "More than I will ever be able to count," he said, always honest.

"No," Hera clarified. "About what happened, about getting captured. About..." she couldn't find the word.

His face shifted again, more somber, eyes drifting back to the memory. "Yeah..." he admitted, and Hera winced that he was always so honest, even when it caused him pain. "Yeah, I had regrets. Knowing what it would put Ezra and Zeb through, knowing I couldn't finish Ezra's training..." He looked at her, eyes green in this light, "Not seeing you again... But it was okay. I could let it go."

Hera looked at him, seeing his Jedi face.

"... I have regrets, too," she said, still fingering the burn, eyes falling to it. This was it, do or die. She looked for words, trying to express everything she had felt since his capture, the realizations she had, the resolve she felt. Nothing seemed strong enough, not in Basic, not in her native language, there wasn't a right word. "I could have lost you," she said, leaning in. "I could have lost you..."

Kanan's face was an open book, he saw what she was saying under the words, eyes wide and full of emotion. He shook his head, tried to shake it off. "You would have found someone else," he said, voice rough, trying to give her an out. That level of thoughtfulness, even in spite of everything, pushed her over the edge, and Hera's only response was to close the distance and kiss him. Fingers rushed into his hair, thousands of tiny lekku to examine as she pulled his tie out, cupping his cheeks and letting her need speak for itself. She couldn't tell if she liked the taste of a human or not, but she enjoyed the idea of several tastes to make a final decision, and when she finally pulled back, saw his pink face and swollen lips, his wide, hopeful eyes, she offered the honest truth.

"There will never be anyone else."

Kanan was slow to react to the sentence, years of never acting on his impulses making it hard for him to fully comprehend what she had just told him, what she had just _given_ him, and Hera kept her hands busy as it slowly sank in, guiding him down to his bunk and to his back.

"Hera..." he said, voice tense. "If this is out of pity..."

He never remembered the first kiss, the one out of pity, and the difference between then and now was so stark Hera openly laughed. "You'd reject that kind of kiss," she assured him, and took another taste of him.

Kanan proved to be a quiet lover, and attentive to the point of annoying. Several times he tried to take over, to give to her what she was giving to him, but Hera didn't want that – not for this time, not for their first – she needed it to be about her making him feel good; as he had spent nearly a decade doing the reverse and she wanted it very clear that she could and would return the favor. Kanan eventually got the idea and after that it was the occasional whispered direction, guiding her to his most secret and sensitive places and telling her how to explore without hesitation. There was the occasional soft gasp, the only real tell he gave that she was doing well, and Hera spent most of her time watching his face, the unbelieving ecstasy as he was overcome with the fact that this was actually happening, that his wildest dream was coming true. Hera loved that look almost as much as she loved him – loved what it said about him, about his expectations, about the depths of his feelings for her. She watched unblinkingly, wanting to capture it permanently in her mind, watched his eyes shift from blue to green, his mouth grinning in jubilation, the loose hair.

They were different species of course, it was not a perfect fit and there were awkward moments of learning about each other, irritating interruptions to Hera's very deliberate work. Her rhythm was very different than his, and the dance took a while to find the right tempo. Once they hit their stride, though, she finally got him to grunt, and his pleasure was so intense that Hera felt herself shudder in her own response, sweetness cascading over her surprise and flushing rational thought out the proverbial air lock. When she came back to herself she was pressed against Kanan, filled with the scent of his sweat and the taste of his lips (she liked it, she decided).

Both of them were breathing deeply, the air humid and Kanan's normally cool human skin at last warm to the touch. He looked at her, and love was written all over his face, so completely open that Hera can only hope hers was the same.

"Love you," she said softly.

Kanan smiled, and it was hands down one of the best memories she would have of him for the rest of her life.

* * *

+1.

Physical intimacy isn't a priority for Hera Syndulla, and Kanan has had far too much experience with it in an old life to put much stock in it. They do have their moments, though, far and few between but each one memorable. It doesn't last long, as Kanan recovers and gets back on in the field he sees how different everything is, the chain of command and the orders and the protocol, and it hurts him in a way he didn't think he would ever feel again. But they work through it like they always did.

Hera feels no hesitation in holding him when they learn of more than one Inquisitor.

Kanan goes out of his way to make her pilot the new B-wing before she does something self-destructive.

Kanan frightens the cynical Sabine with his determination to finish Hera's mission.

And when Hera learns that Kanan and Ezra are leaving, she hides her hurt religiously so that he can leave freely.

* * *

"You'd better go talk to Hera," Sabine said, and Kanan was confused at first, asking what was wrong and making the Mandalorian hold her head in annoyance. "Kanan, _wake up_. She might agree with your mission, but you're still walking out and taking Ezra with you." His gaze found Hera quickly – it always could – as Sabine explained, and now that giant creatures weren't attacking them and Ahsoka had sent word that she was a few hours out, he could really see her. She was always better at compartmentalizing, but Kanan saw what Sabine saw, and he didn't even look at the young teen as he made his way to her.

"Hera..." he started to say, watching her shoulders, seeing the dip and the weight of her lekku. Now that he was watching her pain was everywhere.

"I told the commander the site is secure," she said quickly, and even that said volumes about what she was feeling, "and operations can resume."

"We're going to be okay," he said, "You know that, right?"

"You realize I know when you're lying, right?" she countered.

… And she was right, though he didn't want to admit it. He knew this wasn't going to end well, that he and Ezra weren't going to be okay in the long run. Ezra had talent but not nearly enough training, and Kanan was proving over and over to be a terrible duelist, surviving only by hairs, unable to handle what the Inquisitors threw at him. Defense wasn't working, and he was desperate enough to try offense.

… Nothing good ever came from offense. The war taught him that.

This was going to hurt in ways he couldn't yet imagine, but he had to hope that the gamble would be worth it, that Malachor held something that would give them, give _him_ , an edge.

"Whatever you're facing," Hera said, eyes downcast before she met his eyes, "I wanted to face it together."

Oh... she thought this was final, that he was never coming back.

Being together had always been Hera's sole priority: bring people together to fight the Empire, fight together, learn together, win together. It was a Twi'lek concept, she said once, shrugging it off as nothing special, but it was her need to do things jointly, _together_ , that had made all the difference in Kanan's life. She made a point of making a connection, one deeper than Kanan thought he would ever have; and the more he gave the more she reciprocated, and now he was leaving.

He took her shoulders in his hands, willing his words to be the truth.

"We'll see each other again," he swore, "I promise."

He drew her into a hug, hoping to give her strength.

… He wasn't going to be okay.

He took strength from her instead. They held each other tightly, fearing this might be their last and neither wanting it. She had no idea what he was about to walk into, and frankly neither did he – he had little more than childhood boogey stories, meant to teach errant younglings the dangers of the Dark Side. Kanan had no way to give Hera assurance, no way to ease the tension in her shoulders or the pain in her heart. That didn't stop him from trying, though.

"It's a little ironic," he said into her lekku, and Hera pulled back slightly, a little curious at the words.

"What is?"

"It took you a lot of years," he said softly, "But you finally made a rebel out of me."

The frown she gave was telling, and Kanan elaborated, hand coming up to thumb her face. "You knew I was never into this," he said, gesturing vaguely to the base around them. "In to structure and commands and protocols. I saw what one war did; nobody won, everybody lost. But this." He gestured again, more sweeping, looking at the incoming ships and busy people and occupied droids. "This is different. There's no clones and Jedi, being segregated out to do the fighting exclusively; it's _everyone_ , doing whatever they can, and they're dreaming of something bigger and better than what they have and..." he trailed off, uncertain of the words, uncertain how to explain how he saw Hera in every gear and ship and crate on this base: her idealism and compassion and determination. "They're all like you," he said finally. "That's what will make them, _us_ , win. You did it Hera, you made me a Rebel."

He hugged her again, tighter this time, taking a hand and tracing down one of her lekku – a shockingly intimate gesture in such an open space, the only way he could articulate how deeply she'd managed to convince him of this endeavor. "I want us to win," he whispered, and his voice was suddenly a little shaky, rough with the anxiety churning in his stomach. "I want us to win," he repeated, "But Ezra and I are walking beacons. No matter what we do we draw the Inquisitors to us, and I don't want to bring them down on your – our – heads."

Hera's grip on him tightened; she already knew this but this was the first time Kanan's said any of it out loud, admitted how weak he was. He was little more than a liability, not until he had more training, more knowledge, more understanding of how to survive. "The only way I can help is-"

"Don't say it," Hera interrupted, face in the crook of his neck. "Don't say it."

So he didn't. Instead he pulled her face up, seeing everything in her green eyes, her emotions so strong he could taste it in the Force, and he touched his lips to hers.

It was the first time _he_ had ever kissed _her_ , and it was the only thing he could think of to take her pain away.

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Not too much to say here; the fic mostly speaks for itself. A couple of reviewers have politely chided us for not being more overt about the rampant Kanera in our fics, but this is roughly our headcanon on how we see the relationship. Kanan, of course, fell for Hera at first sight - before first sight, even, but Hera is/was a much tougher nut to crack. For someone as idealistic and compassionate, she's interestingly the more cynical when it comes to emotions because she's seen the seedier side of the galaxy as a Twi'lek. She judiciously partitions herself and that can sometimes make it hard for her to talk about her deeper feelings.
> 
> Based on one scene where Hera tells Kanan "there's a lot of things you don't know about my ship" after saving the crew from the Fyrnocks, the way the scene is staged and blocked off and the innuendo - especially that Kanan backs off and gives her space, we posit the two of them are not yet in That Kind of relationship in season 1. By contrast when Ezra et all talk about there being more than one Inquisitor in season 2 and we watch Kanan get sucker-punched with the news, Hera has no issues holding him in his moment of stress. That differentiation in personal boundaries makes us think something like this happened.
> 
> Also, we've never done a Five Times fic. They're cute enough, but don't always "read" well. We hope this one is adequate.
> 
> Three of our other fics were referenced in this since it spans so much time, and though one doesn't need to know the others to read this, the length and lead up to certain parts are affected by the fact that we assumed everyone had read them (since it's always the same people who review our work in this fandom :P)
> 
> We do have one other completed fic that's in the middle of being beta'ed, but for now we're caught up on all of our stories, and with school started and the two of us back to teaching updates will go back to being sporadic. Here's hoping for season three, which is a nice (belated) present for us!


End file.
